


That Would Awake Me

by Letterblade



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, F/M, Food Kink, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kink, Polyamory, Self-Discovery, Sensation Play, Sloppy Makeouts, alternate universe - d/s verse, biological imperative kink, dom!Constance, dom!Yuri, sub!Balthus, sub!Hapi, the Ashen Wolves are an outsider found family the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letterblade/pseuds/Letterblade
Summary: “The transmutation is perfect!” Coco waves an arm, expansive, posing with one foot turned out like a fancy dancer—and leaning against the wall with the other, because the heels are squishy. “The very substance of the material, altered by myyy magic! Do you not see how groundbreaking a spell this is? How different it is from the mere conjuration of fire to one’s palm?”Hapi is really, still, just thinking about the licorice, so she goes in for a lick, figuring that if Coco’s gonna stop her, Coco’s gonna stop her. She realizes about halfway down that boots are low, like this is gonna be her elbows and knees, and her butt’s in the air, and, well, not her best decision, she could’ve just asked Coco to take them off so they could both have a snack, but—It’s like there’s a vise around her ribs except that it’s lettinggo. It feels so good down here that she could cry. Kneeling at somebody’s feet.***An encounter with Constance's magical licorice boots sends Hapi on a journey of self-discovery, Ashen Wolf polyamory, exploring kink in the aftermath of trauma, and Yuri putting things in her mouth.
Relationships: Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Hapi, Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc, Hapi/Constance von Nuvelle, Hapi/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc
Comments: 25
Kudos: 46
Collections: DS-Verse FE3H Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in and is inspired by the d/s-verse AU created by [dustofwarfare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare) for the [Imperative](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654516) series, though it doesn't share the same characters and relationships, just the same general concept. From a somewhat outside perspective, because Hapi is Hapi. 
> 
> Here’s the standard note/disclaimer about this AU: This fic and others in this 'verse are predicated on the idea there's a biological imperative to fulfill dominance/submission urges (including some sadism/masochism) and might trip some sensitivities because of it. It's not intended to be either dub-con or non-con, so it's not tagged that way, but if you're sensitive to the whole "biological need to submit/dominate" thing, keep this in mind.
> 
> Tagging what I know will happen; more might develop. Yuri/Balthus is a side pairing here, and Hapi/Balthus will be a minor thing; expect a lot of Yuri/Hapi and some Hapi/Constance. Placement in continuity is pretty handwavey because lol Ashen Wolves, but we can assume Cindered Shadows happened and all.

Hapi had wondered.

The whole thing had always felt like quicksand. Fódlan was _intense_ about it, not like back home where her father would sit on the porch peeling potatoes at her mother’s feet, or at least she was too young to know much anyway. Fódlan was all collars and power and seemed to be really keen on owning people in general, like it was definitely a _thing_ around here. Cornelia had started owning her when she was small enough that finding the shiny beetles and making them wrestle was _far_ more important than figuring out what kind of grownup she was gonna be, but that was just about her blood and sticking things down her windpipe anyway, so what did that mean?

The church she hid in mostly just wanted her to be good regardless of what she was, and she was becoming all elbows and knees, and making sure she didn’t bleed through her smallclothes now that _that_ was happening was a higher priority than anything else.

The knights barked orders at her to surrender and come peacefully, and their voices ran through her like ice, but mostly she was just scared, frozen to the spot. There were a dozen of them and one of her, and the first arrow had made her shake with pain, and her miasma had melted one of their arms into putty along with his armor, and she didn’t _want_ to sigh. She didn’t _want_ to feel that power ripping through her throat and have to run from another dumb wolf or three who wanted to kill her more than the knights. Admittedly, by the time they’d forced her to her knees and strapped the muzzle onto her face, hair sticking out every which-way, she was already regretting not putting up more of a fight. Just scared. Right?

She spent a lot of time in a cell feeling her chest ache as her boobs grew in, and wondered about a wide variety of things, and crouched on the floor because there was nowhere to sit, and occasionally screamed very silently behind her teeth because getting owned by Fódlan people was getting pretty fucking old and she was very tired. By the time Aelfric handed her the box with that heavy chain-collar, dangle, and cuffs, explaining that she was technically a submissive of the church, but that was merely a protective formality and that nobody would trouble her as long as she stayed in Abyss, she was so beyond tired that she just numbly fastened them on and asked where the food was.

Which led to bullshit in the end.

And now: Coco’s boots.

“Licorice,” Hapi echoes. And yeah, she can kind of smell it, sugar and anise, and her mouth’s watering. Look, licorice is fucking _great_ and she’s only gotten to have it like once before, and that is a whole lot of licorice, right there, on her friend’s feet for some Coco reason that she does not comprehend.

“The transmutation is perfect!” Coco waves an arm, expansive, posing with one foot turned out like a fancy dancer—and leaning against the wall with the other, because the heels are squishy. “The very substance of the material, altered by _myyy_ magic! Do you not see how groundbreaking a spell this is? How different it is from the mere conjuration of fire to one’s palm?”

“I don’t get magic like you do,” Hapi reminds her for about the tenth time. “It just kinda happens.”

Coco cackles merrily. “Of course one could not underestimate your natural talent! If I could command the deep secrets of dark magic, I could even further heighten the glory of House Nuvelle! Serve me and share with me your talents, my dearest friend, and you shall be…”

Hapi is really, still, just thinking about the licorice, so she goes in for a lick, figuring that if Coco’s gonna stop her, Coco’s gonna stop her. She realizes about halfway down that boots are _low_ , like this is gonna be her elbows and knees, and her butt’s in the air, and, well, not her best decision, she could’ve just asked Coco to take them off so they could both have a snack, but—

“…w-well rewarded…” Coco goes on, her voice climbing an octave. The perfectly turned-out heel doesn’t retreat. Hapi drags her tongue up around the top of it, since she’s down here like a dumbass anyway, and—yup, licorice. Really good licorice, full of flavor and a little soft under her tongue.

“You should definitely have some too,” Hapi mumbles, in some vague attempt to save the situation. “’S really good.”

“You…need not win my favor,” Coco says, and there’s something delicate and almost breathy in her voice that Hapi’s never heard before, which makes her look up. It’s a weird foreshortened view of Coco, and her boobs kind of get in the way of her face a little, but—her eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed red. She looks—poleaxed. “You’re my friend,” she manages.

Hapi blinks about five or six times and runs her tongue over her lips, still savoring the anise. “I, uh, think I missed something there? I just wanted licorice.”

She’s rocked back on her heels a little in the course of looking up at her, and somewhere in there is about when it hits her. More like drags her down. Coco’s soft-fingered, long-nailed hand floats down to trace a wisp of Hapi’s hair, and their eyes lock for a moment, and Hapi can barely breathe. It’s like there’s a vise around her ribs except that it’s letting _go_. It feels so good down here that she could cry. Kneeling at somebody’s feet.

Coco, at least, looks just as lost and confused, all her flamboyant eloquence dried up as her fingers wander down to brush Hapi’s lips.

“’S really good,” Hapi repeats in a croak, which could be referring to just about anything, she isn’t sure. “You should…have some…”

“Do it again?” Coco breathes, earnest and desperate.

It doesn’t run through her like ice. It runs through her like—like fire, maybe, or hot syrup on a fruit bun, and Hapi makes a faint whine that she barely even recognizes and that she desperately hopes doesn’t count as a sigh, and folds back down to elbows and knees as inevitably as sliding off that one really squashy couch in the dorms when she’s sleepy. The arch of Coco’s foot, all but face into the floor for her. Lips and tongue, all but making out with the thing. Anise fills her nose and sugar fills her mouth and a haze like she’s never felt fills her mind.

 _Well, crap_ , some part of her thinks as Coco’s other licorice-booted foot lifts and settles on her shoulder, holding her down with her ass in the air. _Guess that answers that._

* * *

The next while is, genuinely, a bit of a blur, in part because Hapi ate enough licorice that she almost yonked. So did Coco, once she had Hapi tearing up the other boot bit by bit and giving her strips in her teeth. Hapi’s sticky all down her mouth and chin, and there’s definitely some in her hair, and she feels as hot as if she’s been sitting in the sauna. Coco has just about bitten her lips off in the course of making out. Coco’s hands, trembling-entranced turned to demanding, have been all over her face and hair and—not her throat, she’d batted her away from that with one stab of horrible spine-crawling discomfort that made her blood ice up even through her punch-drunk haze. Coco’s feet are gross, especially the one that Hapi’s been eating candy off of, because she _did_ take her other boot off to snack. There hadn’t really been a reason to suck _those_ toes, they weren’t a mess from dissolving candy, Hapi had just done it anyway.

Coco has also spent a while just clutching Hapi between her thighs—not even like that, they were both way too sticky and queasy, though it’s not like Hapi doesn’t have a noseful of sweet musky smell down there that makes her mouth water. It was like Coco didn’t want to let her go, just squeeze her between her knees and touch all over her face and hair and ramble about the brilliance of every spell she’d ever seen her cast and how precious she was to House Nuvelle. Which might be presuming things, Hapi thinks vaguely, but can she bring herself to care? Nope. Too high.

After a while, B wanders by, which is good, because Coco needs to be carried to the bath, and Hapi waves them off and makes some vague effort to get up. Fun had, time to clean up. And think. Fuck, does she need time to think. She feels strangely floaty, calm as if she’s safely up in a tree on a warm night under a blanket of stars, satisfied as if she’s eaten a full meal of the very best pheasant roast, except in her soul and not her oversugared stomach. And also there is a fuck of a thing to chew on right there.

First she needs time to rub any real feeling back into her legs. Entire stockings full of pins and needles, yikes. No wonder Fódlan subs need pillows everywhere. She could have sat, she supposes, it just hadn’t occurred to her to stop kneeling.

Instincts, Hapi concluded gradually as her stomach rolls and she burps anise, are _weird_. Hadn’t occurred to her to stop kneeling. The floor is her new best friend, apparently, and there’s crud embedded in her kneecaps, and she picks it out and watches the skin slowly bounce back like she has a thousand times, but she’s not in jail this time. Also in the instincts category, there had been this weirdly comfortable sense that she should put her hands behind her back and eat what was given to her _entirely_ the messy way. She’d always kind of figured that was something bossy doms trained into people, but nope, it felt as natural as kissing, and as nice

At least moaning didn’t count as sighing, _thank fuck_. She can check that off.

She also feels like her period’s started suddenly, except she’d just finished like last week. Or like a wodge of licorice had gotten stuck in her underwear and _dissolved_ , she feels so sticky. She’s not sure she’s ever been this turned on in her life, and when she finally manages to totter to her feet and convince her stiff legs to walk, it’s to the bathroom to just, like, wipe herself down. And maybe sneakily rub one out, which is practically _immediate_ , and which feels both searingly intense and not _nearly_ as satisfying as usual.

“The heck,” she tells her reflection, candy-spattered and red-cheeked and lip-bitten, and shakes her head. She’d left her bracelets behind, she realizes—no more cuffs, not after Rhea waved her fake-magnanimous hand and granted their supposed freedom, but she found some bracelets because she likes the look, likes hiding the rough spots on her wrists. Maybe Coco had taken them off before the thing where she tried to take off Hapi’s high-necked jacket and she’d caught nerves and sucked her toes to distract her.

When she goes back to the little hangout-nook they’d been in, Yuri-bird’s sitting on the squashy couch with a damp washcloth and her bracelets, and she looks between the things in his hands and feels pretty dumb that she went straight for wanking instead of _washing_ her _face._ “Hey, Yuri-bird,” she says.

“Hey yourself.” He holds out her bracelets. “They’d gone into the couch.”

“Thanks.” She takes them, busies herself putting them on and not quite bothering to meet his eyes, because, well, she looks pretty messed up and Yuri’s good at seeing through people.

“I hear you and Constance had a spiritual awakening.”

That startles a laugh out of her, makes her lips quirk up, and she perches on the arm of the couch and stretches. “Guess so. I kinda thought she would’ve figured it out already, being raised fancy nobility and all.”

“Oh, she knew she was a dominant.” Yuri offers her the washcloth, not particularly aggressively, and Hapi takes it. She’ll need a soak to really get it off, but, well, she can pretend to have a little dignity—in part by just slapping the cool cloth all over her burning cheeks. “Seems like she’s just a late bloomer when it comes to what that can actually feel like.” He laughs softly. “Aside from being bossy as fuck and testing spells on people.”

“B’s a brave man,” Hapi says solemnly. “Letting himself be alone with Coco _and_ a tub of water.” Yuri-bird, she figures, is doing that thing where he vaguely pretends he is too much of a cool mob boss to be doing damage control for his friends, but he’s absolutely doing damage control for his friends and everyone knows it.

“Underside of your nose,” he prompts.

Hapi really, seriously considers just flopping over and letting him do it. Somehow that averages into scrubbing a bit at her nose and sliding off the arm so she’s on the couch proper and almost close enough to touch him.

“Had you ever been under before?” he asks, with no particular edge.

“Nah.” She pokes her nose, picks off a bit of black sticky, scrubs more. Reeling on her knees in a miserable haze as some knight cuffed her? “Not like that.” At least she knows, now, how different the real thing feels. That had been the real thing. Oh, man. “Not exactly on the menu in jail.”

“Probably for the best. How are you feeling?”

“Like I was high,” she says, a little dreamily, and how had she gotten licorice on her _ear_ , anyway? “Also my legs hurt. How do people kneel all day.”

“Practice. And pillows.”

“We were distracted.”

“You didn’t quite get all of it,” Yuri says lightly, and it’s one of those stupidly obtuse Yuri-bird things, because she _could_ just pretend he means the licorice, which, duh, she’s probably never gonna get all of it, she’s going to have licorice in her skin until she dies at the rate this is going. But of course he also means her.

“I…kinda hoped I’d turn out to be the other thing,” Hapi says finally, leaning into the back of the couch so she wouldn’t have to show Yuri her face. “Even when it seemed…yeah, gotta admit, kinda unlikely. Like maybe one day the hormones would finally kick in and I’d start, I dunno, wanting to boss B around, and it’d be cool. Look at me go, bossing B.”

Yuri makes a soft, questioning noise.

Hapi spends a solid thirty seconds or so holding back a sigh by sheer practiced will. She is _really_ in the mood for it right now. “I just…feel dumb. Like I spend half my life in some jail cell or another. And then it turns out that I like it like that? And I know it’s not the same thing, but…” She bites back another disgruntled noise. “Ugh,” she says, distinctly, like the word _ugh_ , which conveys it just about as well, probably.

“I should tell you it’s not the same and it’s fine and you don’t have to worry about it,” Yuri says, voice a little quieter than usual. “But I’d be a hypocrite. I’ve played sub for way too many people who wanted to feel bigger than they were. I’d probably hate myself too if that was actually me enjoying those pompous nobles.”

Hapi un-butts her head for a moment, studying Yuri-bird. He’s still lounging just as he’d been, but his whole lean body’s a line of tension, she’s pretty sure, under the well-tailored folds of his uniform. She hadn’t heard him say, straight out, that he was a dominant—when did Yuri-bird say anything straight out?—but it’s like the least surprising thing in the world. It feels a little different, now, to be so keenly _aware_ of it. Right alongside being keenly aware of how fucked up his own life is.

“Hate myself might be a little strong,” she says eventually. “Like who has the energy for that?”

He quirks a smile. “You’d be surprised. Well. It’s okay to worry about it if you need to.”

“You really want to play advice box, huh,” Hapi says, with no heat in it whatsoever.

“Consider it payment for your work in defending Abyss?” Yuri waves a hand.

“You already feed me for that.” She _really_ wants to flop with her head in his lap. Would’ve done it without thinking a week ago. _That’s_ what jars her out of holding herself back, because damn it, what _should_ this change? Yuri wouldn’t have minded a week ago either, she’s pretty sure, because Yuri generally makes it clear when he minds things.

So she flops, curled on her side with her head on his thigh.

His hand settles lightly in her hair, and she makes a faint, not-a-sigh hum of contentment at the touch. Then he picks the washcloth out of her hand and starts scrubbing gently at her cheekbone.

“You don’t have to do anything about it that you don’t want to do,” he says. “It’ll eat at you to not fill those needs, but it’ll hurt more if you don’t feel safe doing it.”

“I know.” She feels her mouth twist, bites a nail like she hasn’t for a while—she’d taken them to the quick in jail, bored out of her skull. “Well. I should go make sure Coco’s not thinking she did something wrong or anything. I’m not fussing about _her_ , that was fun.”

Yuri’s fingers are quick and gentle on her skin, lotioned-soft. “Do you want to play with her again?”

That is a big fuck of a question, and she bites another nail, and Yuri makes some very quiet noise she can’t make out and leaves the washcloth on her forehead, cool and damp, to fold his hand over hers. It’s the littlest thing, but she feels her fingers curl soft under his. She hadn’t realized he’d noticed her nails. She has absolutely no idea what to do with this feeling, so she settles for butting her forehead into his knuckles like a cat.

“Probably,” she hears herself say. Which…yeah, that _was_ fun, and Coco’s adorable, and she is _really_ curious about the whole eating up her legs and between them experience, but something’s holding her back. “Maybe…later? I dunno.” She chews on it and idly headbutts Yuri’s hand again. “I guess I don’t want to feel dumb about it when I’m with her. Or get surprised by my own stuff a lot. She’s…look, I love her, but she lives in Coco-world, and I just wanna have fun with her because she’s actually really bad at it.”

“Makes sense,” Yuri says, comfortable and rolling with the headbutts. “Did you get surprised by something?”

Hapi goes still for a moment, then says, “She tried to touch my neck and I freaked out.”

“That’s okay. You get to have limits, you know.”

“Well, that’s new and exciting.”

“Isn’t it just?” He squeezes her hand gently, then picks the washcloth off her face and goes back to fussing over her sticky spots.

“Does stuff ever freak you out?” It’s…nice, him touching her. She tucks her legs up, curling a little closer.

“It’s different when I’m in control. Usually not like that. But being comfortable with it, enjoying it for its own sake instead of getting caught up in unpleasantries…well, it took a little practice.”

Hapi doesn’t like that pause, so she bites his knuckle gently. “I’m being like super-honest with you here, Yuri-bird.”

He makes a disgruntled sort of noise and boops her nose. “Really. That how you want to do this.” Another pause, and his voice is quieter. “It’s a work in progress. Balthus keeps catching me on things. He’s a little too insightful for his own good sometimes.”

“You and him are a thing, yeah? Like that kind of thing?”

“Mm. He’s a heinous brat, but he’s mine.” The fondness in Yuri-bird’s voice is pretty unmitigated. “And he owes me another bet.”

“Did you bet on me and Coco or something?” Hapi grumbles, biting his knuckle again, a touch less gently.

“He thought you’d figure it out around me at some point. I thought you’d figure it out with Constance, since you’re more relaxed and happy with her. And I’m starting to wonder if Balthus is cursed never to win a bet, so that may have swayed your fate.”

Hapi snorts. “Dicks. Wait. Did you just say you knew I was a sub before I did?”

“I had a pretty solid guess,” Yuri says, sounding a little too amused.

Hapi tugs his hand in a little so she can get her teeth around his wrist and actually bite him _hard_ without fucking him up. “Oi.”

He tweaks her ear in retaliation. “Balthus bites me too, it’s adorable. Doesn’t mean you’re any less who you are.”

“Go fuck yourself, Yuri-bird,” Hapi grumbles, but there’s no heat in it at all. She might be laughing a little, actually. Mostly at herself.

“No, see, I’m the one who tells people what to do.” Yuri’s laughing too, maybe not entirely fake. Fingertips walking up her temple, nails digging in just a touch, teasing, and he really has been touching her a lot, hasn’t he? Not like she minds.

“Are you dom-flirting with me or something? Is that like a thing?”

“Maybe I’m just flirting-flirting. Not everybody jumps straight to boot-licking among friends, you know.”

“Well, not everybody has licorice boots. Which is their loss.”

“Yes, but imagine walking around in those all day. In the sticky parts of Burrow Street.”

Hapi wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”

“But in all seriousness…mm, maybe a little. Stop me and I’ll stop. But you’re my friend.” It’s never a word that even sits lightly in his voice. “And this doesn’t change how I see you.”

She blinks for a moment at the last. It’s oddly reassuring, like a comfortable hand on her shoulder. “I like that. I’m still me.” She _really_ wants to kiss his knuckles, it’s like a whole thing going through her head right now. They’re holding hands, more-or-less, because she’s still got the one she bit even as the other settles in her hair. “Not sure I’m gonna stop you.”

“Even if you still feel dumb about it?”

“Yeah. I mean, I just unloaded all over you about it, so at least you get it.”

“I’ve had to negotiate things within myself,” Yuri offers after a brief pause. “Notice sore spots and work around them. If you want to kneel for me from time to time, I’m not going to pretend it’s just educational, or just to help you figure things out, because that’s an insult to us both. But that sort of problem isn’t too strange for me.”

Hapi feels herself going still for a moment, a little shiver walking down her spine. _Kneel for me._ It feels like it should send her running. Some part of her is almost disappointed that it _doesn’t_. “You offering to…what, dom-make-out with me?”

Yuri laughs. “Even dom-go-all-the-way with you if you want.”

“Does that also include other-stuff-go-all-the-way?”

“It could,” Yuri says, after a contemplative sort of pause. “Doesn’t have to. Pace is on you.”

“That’s not how I got the impression it goes.”

“Well, that depends on the person. Balthus and I didn’t wait until the third date, let me put it that way. Not once the dam broke. But he was experienced. Your situation is different. I’m not just going to grab you and put you on your knees. Don’t get the impression you’d appreciate that.”

“Yeah, probably not.” She contemplates it, fidgeting with her cuff with her free hand. “What about Balthus, actually?”

“We’re not exclusive. He’ll know that it’s happening.”

“Sounds smart.” She chews her lip, and gives in to the uncertain urge to ask, “What about dom-going-steady?”

“I…” Yuri sounds genuinely taken aback, and she shifts a little so she can peer up at him. He picks a lock of hair off her forehead, fussy, before eventually saying, “I don’t know. It’ll depend upon how things go between us. But I don’t play with people for fun unless I actually like them. And I’m not going to take the idea off the table just because of who you are.”

Hapi has to squeeze her eyes shut and look back away for a moment. He hadn’t even said _what_ , even if she was kinda thinking it real hard. “Well, heck, Yuri-bird.”

His fingers comb through her hair in answer, and he looks away like he needs to puff and resettle his feathers. “Like I said. You’re my friend.”

* * *

She definitely does need to talk to Coco, and she finds her in the girl’s dormitory in her frilly nightie, scrubbed to the bone, with a few books piled on the mattress beside her. She’s doing her hair: curling up a strand around her finger, a puff of magic that lines violet-blue down the underside, boinging it once to make sure it boings, repeat.

“Hey,” Hapi says, kind of uncertainly. “You all clean?”

“Quite! That lout Balthus was actually useful for once.” She boings another strand and tosses her head. “I see the same cannot be said for you. The water’s still warm, and I can reheat it readily enough with my magic. Shall I bathe you?”

Hapi thinks of Coco seeing her bare throat and holds onto the edge of her jacket a little. “Nah, I’ll do it myself later.” Coco’s face falls a touch, so she adds, sheepish. “Not you. Look, I…” She bites her lip. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Of _course_.” Coco reaches up for her, a little grabby and Hapi bends over, and it’s different from when they were high on hormones, sweet and only a little bitey. “Oh.” Her laugh is soft against Hapi’s lips. “You still taste like licorice. Which, goddess help me, that was an unexpected delight, but I don’t know if I can ever stomach licorice again.”

Hapi snorts. “Yeah, that…yeah. That was awesome, and I’m gonna need at least a week before I have any more licorice.”

“A week! Truly you are resilient.” Coco seems to be hesitating for a moment, eyes searching her face. “I shall have to find you a singularly outstanding gift in return.”

Hapi blinks. “In return?”

“For the delight of your service.”

She feels her brow furrow and something uncertain gnaw at her, but is way too tired to untangle it. “Doesn’t that go both ways? Like I said, that was awesome. I just needed to think about some stuff. Gonna need to keep thinking about some stuff.”

“Please.” Coco pats her knee. “Do not hesitate to unburden yourself to me, your eternal friend!”

Some part of Hapi _really_ wants to slide right back down to the floor at her feet, but she’s also been curled up for kinda a while, so she flips the sticky bits of her hair out of the way and backflops on Coco’s bed, sprawling. “I unburdened myself a lot to Yuri-bird. I think…oh, jeez, Coco.” That delicate hand is settling in her hair, and Hapi catches it and kisses it without thinking. “The thing is, I…I figured out I was a sub right then. With you.”

“Oh!” Coco blinks, cheeks a little pink. “You were not taught?”

“Taught?” Hapi blinks. “What can you even teach about that stuff? I dunno when most people figure it out, but I was probably in a cell for it, so it was not really a thing in my life.”

“My tutor in noble deportment asked me a goodly number of questions, but my natural dominance and charisma was clearly apparent to her! Then I was of course trained in the proper etiquette for every level of formal public appearance, as befits the brilliant daughter of House Nuvelle.”

“Etiquette…?”

“The signals of control, how to place myself with an equally appropriately trained submissive, personal or otherwise, how to present them to those of greater or lesser station, and so forth.”

“That is worse than three different kinds of forks,” Hapi mumbles. Shit, Adrestia sounds even more stuffy than Garreg Mach.

“It is a matter of honor and respect, carried out with all the grace due to my station! A submissive must honor their dominant and elegantly attend to them, and a dominant must in turn honor their submissive by presenting them with pride and not allowing them to languish uncherished.”

“You know I don’t know _any_ of that stuff, right?”

“I…well.” Coco puffs her cheeks out a little, and for a moment the gaunt line of her jaw softens adorably. “I admit that all those lessons fled my mind when presented with the sheer indulgence of…of you.” Hapi feels her voice catch in her throat, and Coco plows on. “I had hardly reacted in such a way to the Nuvelle house submissives—they were our servants, after all. And we were ever isolated, as was our nature. And in the time since our fall, I would dare say I have been as lonely as you.”

“Hey,” Hapi manages, and squeezes her hand.

“I would naturally be honored to take you into my personal service as well as the service of House Nuvelle—”

“Whoa, whoa, Coco, hey. Are you, like, dom-proposing to me on the first date?”

“I—” Coco falters, and her cheeks flare burning red. “Well, I…you shall have plenty of time to prove your worth if you feel it necessary! But rest assured that between your natural magical talents and the great personal delight you bring me—e-eh? You _bit_ me?”

“Slow down a minute.” Hapi bites back a _please_ , nerves jangling, because when the hell does _please_ get you anything, and sits up to look her right in her big blue eyes. “Listen to me.” She takes her face in her hands, feeling the heat of her blush, and Coco squeaks, too startled to protest. “I like you a lot, we will always be friends, I wanna do more stuff with you once I figure some things out, and I don’t belong to anybody. Not that Cornelia bitch, not the church, not Aelfric and his stupid collar, not Yuri-bird, not Chatterbox, not you. I don’t and I might not ever want to. Okay?”

Coco’s mouth opens and closes twice before she says, in a little squeak, “Not that lout either, I do hope.”

Hapi snorts. “B couldn’t hold onto his own ass, never mind mine. Maybe ’s why Yuri-bird’s got it for him.”

“Wait—are you saying they’re—is the lout _Yuri’s_ submissive? He doesn’t even have a proper personal collar! He calls him _boss!_ ”

Hapi shrugs. “Guess that’s how they be. You really think B looks like he’s going to follow all the fancy rules? Isn’t he not even from your country?”

“I…suppose. _Still_.” Coco’s brow furrows as she digests it all, and Hapi lets go of her face and takes the chance to boing one curl. “ _Are_ you all right? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine. You didn’t. I just.” Hapi bites her lip once, hard, and doesn’t sigh. “I need to figure out what all this stuff means to me, and where I fit into it, and what I want and don’t want. Because it’s new and I’m kinda fucked up. I might mess around with Yuri-bird some, he offered.”

“You and Yuri?” Coco tosses her head a little, curls bouncing. “Well, he had better treat my dear friend well.”

Hapi blinks, a little pleasantly surprised by how easily Coco had rolled with that, and feels her lips quirk up. “Not like I’m gonna let him do anything else.”

Coco’s quiet for a moment, just studying her, and then kisses her softly on the cheek. And makes an indignant noise and rubs her nose. “Please do go help yourself to the bath. No doubt it will become more difficult to clean as time passes.”

“Yeah.” Hapi kisses her back, skin soft and clean and flushed against her lips. “I’ll let you know if it needs a fire, yeah?”

“Of course! It would not do for a dear friend to bathe in a chilly tub.”

* * *

Hapi scrubs herself, slow and methodical, in the late silence of the bath. The hustle and bustle of Abyss is far away and muted here, and the sugar melts slowly off her skin, and it’s just warm enough to be comfy—she doesn’t like a super-hot bath anyway. The turmoil of her thoughts fades. She gets her underboob, her thighs, looks down at the length of her body and all the familiar old dumb-kid scars and the birthmark on her calf, the little dip of an arrow puncture in her side where the knights had shot her down, the rough strips worn into her wrists and ankles from manacles, the hair-thin silver slice in her arm from where she’d freaked out and sent Cornelia’s scalpel flailing.

Cornelia’s punishments never left marks, after all. Just the crawling of dark magic.

Still the same body. Still the same Hapi.

She finishes and sits there drip-drying and squeezing water out of her hair in thick handfuls, watching the deep wet darkness fade back into red at the tips, thinking about how dizzyingly _good_ it had felt before she started fussing.

She finds her sleeping shirt with the high mound of ruffles at the chin that she’s otherwise cut down to no sleeves and barely enough to cover her boobs, and fresh underwear, and pads back to the dorm with the dank Abyss air pleasantly cool on her bare skin.

Coco’s asleep, snoring away like the buzzsaw she is, wrapped around a book in a frilly ball. She looks so much smaller asleep, Hapi thinks, without her personality filling up the room, and the magic is drifting off her curls in a slow fade of violets, and she’s twitching in her sleep. Her snores still. “Mama,” she whimpers, barely audible. “Oh, Mama. She is perfect.”

Hapi could climb up to her top bunk, but instead she carefully picks the other scattered books off the mattress, quiet as she can, and stacks them on the floor, and snuffs all the lanterns but one, and slides in around Coco to spoon her from behind. Finds a bit of blanket to tuck her feets under, that’s really all she needs.

Coco keeps mumbling and snoring in turn as Hapi settles, and then there’s a bit of silence as she starts to doze, and then her voice cuts through the dark, clear and quiet. “It’s not belonging to. It’s belonging with. My deportment tutor told me that too.”

Hapi blinks, muzzy, and slings a bare leg over hers so she can squish her snug. “Go to sleep, Coco.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I realize the idea of second base implies the existence of Fódlan baseball, which…look, idioms and casual speech in a nonmodern setting ALWAYS GET STUPID. These are the things I fuss about. But also let’s just all imagine Dimitri pitching and Yuri fielding and it turns into the Twilight baseball game.

The next day is…normal. Hapi stuffs her _entire_ face with berries and little tasty grubbed-up roots from the gorge, at least until it’s a good time to cadge pheasant from the dining hall when there aren’t _too_ many people around to back away from her and clutch their pearls, and it’s good. She _feels_ good, better than she’s felt in years. The next day too, even as she lurks in the back of Chatty’s classroom and tries to make sense of stupidly complicated shit about troop movements. The contentment lingers. The world feels brighter. Coco’s still Coco with her, and seems to have chilled out a little about the trying to dom-marry her thing. Yuri-bird’s still Yuri-bird. B tells her when there’s pheasant.

She considers asking B if it’s normal to feel this much of a difference afterwards when you haven’t done the submissive thing in a while—well, ever, in her case—but how do you start _that_ conversation? And she’s pretty tired of sounding dumb about it.

She’s also wanking like a madwoman, which—well, _that’s_ not new, she’s gone through phases like that before. Heck, once she figured out the guard rotations so that nobody would be watching her like a creep, she’d pretty much worn her clit out in jail. What else was she going to do? But now she can sneak out to quiet sheltered corners of the no-longer-crawling-with-golems gorge, under bushes so the ever-circling sky patrols don’t spot her, and do it in dappled sunlight or the late golden drawl near sunset. And it feels _nice_ , peaceful, like there’s warm satisfaction in her belly instead of janky frustration.

Except for the niggling certainty that it would be _more_ satisfying to come at Coco or Yuri-bird’s whim.

Coco has her sample that fancy bean juice, which is absolutely delicious, and then she goes and makes it weird. “Wait, c’mon,” Hapi says, coffee thick and bitter-perfect on her lips. “For my service, really? It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Coco looks almost thunderous for a moment. “Do you think I would insult you by forgoing a gift for such a delightful evening? Why, if anybody else treated you so poorly, I would have to electrify them where they stand!”

Hapi feels her brow furrow and takes another sip, because it’s really hard not to— _what_ a flavor! “Is this one of those deportment tutor things? Do you expect me to give you a gift too?”

“Your gift has already been given!” Coco gestures, grand and vague.

“That’s so weird,” Hapi says, and keeps drinking. “I mean, it’s not like I was putting myself out for some big favor. I really liked it too.”

“I would hope so!” There’s vague puzzlement in her eyes, like she’s chewing on that. “Do you not enjoy the coffee?”

“It’s not _that_ , this stuff’s delicious. Super delicious.” Hapi frowns at the bottom of the cup. “All gone. Got more?”

Coco doesn’t, which is a disappointment, and okay, Hapi hadn’t quite realized how rare and expensive it was. Also now she really doesn’t want to sleep. So they scamper out to the ravine to scrounge berries as the stars come out, and maybe also make out a little. Or a lot. The coffee’s invigorating, as Coco puts it. Hapi feels buzzy in ways which probably aren’t even about Coco playing with her hair.

By the time she finally manages to get to bed, stuffing her wrist in her mouth to stifle her yawns, they’re both full of berries, giggling about nothing, and Coco’s smile has eased about the edges, girlish and relaxed in the safe dark of night. Coco’s been good, not pushing. Except on her bedtime, but oh well, Hapi wouldn’t have been able to sleep right after drinking that bean juice anyway.

“Perchance I am courting you,” Coco says brightly, when Hapi asks, more than a little awkward. “My desire to win your service and give you the full honor and affection due a submissive of House Nuvelle has not waned! When I restore my fortunes, you shall have coffee thrice daily if you so wish. But how could I begrudge you the time and effort you are taking to ensure your comfort as a submissive, that you may be ever worthy of my house?”

Hapi blinks about ten times. “Okay? I’m mostly doing it for my own sake, you know.”

“If you are to be mine,” Coco says, airy and still a little fast because of the coffee, “then it is for my sake as well, obviously.”

“I can’t tell if that’s weird or kinda sweet,” says Hapi, picking berry seeds out of her teeth. “I think I’m gonna go with sweet.”

“As well you should! There is nothing strange about this whatsoever.”

Both of them are weird as _shit_ , Hapi thinks, and this probably is too, but she figures it would be kind of mean to point it out, so instead she just shoves a handful of berries in Coco’s mouth to hear her make disgruntled noises.

* * *

By the end of the week, the contentment’s slowly faded, and Hapi feels tired and jittery as always. Also her whole sense of what’s normal is shifting. Tired and jittery _not_ being standard-issue Hapi is a new and mind-boggling thought.

Yuri-bird’s disappeared for a few days on some mystery bird business, which is pretty standard, but he shows up the next evening in a traveling cloak, makeup a little more muted than usual, and under the cloak is some really fancy-looking suit she’s never seen before. He’s practically _stalking_ down the tunnel, heeled boots clacking on the cobbles, buzzing with an energy that sends a trickle of unexpected heat down Hapi’s spine.

“Hey, Yuri-bird.”

“Hey.” He stops on a turn of heel, brings up a smile that’s more than a little tight. “Anything catch fire when I was gone?”

“Nah. Been pretty quiet. Wilting Rose got a new crate of stuff, B says it’s not quite as shit. Might wanna ask Coco what Chatty’s been talking about this week. Tactics are so not my strong suit.”

He nods, unwinds just another tick. “Good to know. You seen Balthus?”

“Enjoying the new crate of stuff, I think.” She pauses, chews her lip.

“Hapi?” Yuri prompts, almost gently.

“I…probably wanna take you up on that offer.” Right, that had been more than a week ago, even if she’s been thinking about it every damn hour. “The dom-makeouts, I mean.”

Yuri’s eyes go wide, and he goes very still for a moment, and then reaches out to touch her cheek, so gentle it’s almost excruciating. “Thank you. I want to, and I’m honored that you’d trust me with that, and I hate telling you to wait under the circumstances, but—not right this moment.”

“You seem super-stressed.”

“I spent half of yesterday serving tea on my knees,” he mutters, low and raw. He takes her face in both hands now, and leans in to bump their foreheads together, and his voice smooths a little. “I need to go do things to Balthus that would probably send you running for the hills.”

“Like what?” Hapi lifts a hand, going for a hug or something, and Yuri shakes his head, small and almost panicked, and she drops it.

“Do you really want—”

“I like that you’re being considerate and all, but I don’t need you to coddle me.”

Yuri is very still for a moment, long enough that Hapi almost drops it. Then: “I want to find something that he _almost_ can’t stand and make him beg me to do it again and again. I want to cane him until he cries and make him lick his own come off the floor and do it all after shoving something up his ass that’s so big it makes his thighs shake, and he is going to love every second of it. Not because I made him, but because I _know_ him and I know he will.”

Hapi’s stock-still for a moment, caught in a rush of horny that’s more than a little bit scared. “Gods _damn_ , B,” she mumbles.

“He’s very accommodating,” Yuri says, voice light and fond and almost frayed.

“Yeah, that’s a little beyond makeouts.”

One hand smoothes over her hair, and Yuri pulls back enough to catch her gaze, and the intensity in his eyes has her like a fishhook. She really never has seen him like this, all wound up and throwing off this pretty devastating sense of _command_. Some part of her kind of does want to fold to her knees. “Find me after classes tomorrow,” he says, voice _almost_ normal. “Don’t worry about what you’re wearing or what you’re doing to prepare or anything like that, just relax if you can and have a normal day. We’ll get dinner, we’ll talk, I’ll put you under. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” She nods, feels herself smile. “Sounds good.”

He hesitates, and his tongue darts out like his mouth is dry—no lipstick tonight. “I want to kiss you,” he says, even more like normal, and the contrast with the presence he’s got going right now is a little head-spinning.

“Yeah,” she says again, and feels the smile grow. “Sounds good.”

It’s relatively brief, and very different from Coco, and so intense it makes her knees weak. Yuri is probing and relentless and catches her bottom lip to _worry_ at it rather than straight-up biting, and when he’s done, he tugs her down just a little to kiss her on the temple.

“My legs are about to give out,” Hapi breathes, eyes squeezed tightly closed.

“I can feel it,” Yuri breathes, hot against her skin. “Sorry. That was a bit of a tease, my friend.”

“’S okay.” She laughs softly, and butts her head into his hand before he lets her go. “Go fuck up your lug. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yuri-bird.”

* * *

The next day, B has bruises scattered all down his neck and chest, is walking a little funny, and has this boneless, expansive cheer to him, as well as a shit-eating grin that never leaves his face. Which isn’t new, but it’s not like Hapi’s ever known if it was from a good fight or one of his lady-loves or—that. And Yuri-bird is back in his usual plumage, strolling rather than stalking, smiling easily and cooking up a storm with Ashe on lunch duty, about as relaxed and comfortable as she’d ever expect to see him. Practically preening.

No need to try to start that conversation with B, apparently. There’s definitely a difference. It warms her chest somehow, seeing them like that. Which is a nice bit of warmth to hold close, because today otherwise kind of sucks. She’s jangly, and can’t stop wondering what’s going to happen and what Yuri-bird’s going to be like and whether it’ll be okay and whether she’ll be okay. She absorbs absolutely zero of the tactics on Chatty’s blackboard. _And_ she’s dumb enough to glare back at some of the side-eyes around her, which only sends people actually physically scooting away.

The dinner bell is a goddamn relief, and she practically scampers out of the academy courtyard. She wants to be out in the woods or even down in Abyss, depressing as the place is, because Garreg Mach is making her crawl out of her skin, and she realizes they’d both been too damn distracted last night to decide _where_ to meet—

Yuri’s in the garden outside the dining hall, being pert and pretty in the sun, chatting with that tall Beagle chick with the nice hat and nicer thighs, and he parts ways with some line that makes her laugh brightly before he falls in at Hapi’s side. “Thoughts on dinner? Nobody too unfortunate is on dining hall duty tonight, but it’s not exactly the peak of romance.”

Hapi jangles silently, feels her mouth twist, and returns the Beagle’s wave with sullen relief—at least she’s waving and not backing away? “Romance, me? Though…gotta admit, I’m pretty tired of everyone looking at me like I’m going to monster up the school.”

“Got it. I know a few places in town. Or I’ve got enough down in my place in Abyss to make something for both of us, though it’ll hardly be fancy without a shopping trip.”

“Fancy, me? Would that be a bother?”

“No. I like cooking.” He looks almost like he’s going to loop an arm through hers like a fancy boy, the way he turns, and she’s relieved that he cuts up through the dorm walkway rather than the bustling academy courtyard to reach the hidden path to Abyss. She wonders if he’d done it on purpose. “Some people feel safer having a first date in public, after all.”

She snorts. “I nearly got blood-sponged into a cup with you, Yuri-bird. It’s not _you_ I’m worried about.”

He actually laughs at that—he really is in a good mood. “Fair enough.”

“Didn’t realize you had your own place.”

“It’s, ah…” His eyes dart quickly around the long stretch of walkway, catch on the few students hurrying by to dinner. “Let’s just say it doesn’t belong to the former head of the Ashen Wolves.” His smile turns cryptic and a little bit sharp.

“Is it a sketchy murder apartment, Yuri-bird.”

He bats his eyelashes. “I don’t shit where I eat.”

Once they’ve sauntered down the tunnels and waved to the Abysskeeper, they peel off in a direction she’s almost never wandered: towards the sprawling warren of cobbled-together apartments where most of the townsfolk live. His seems tucked away in the back, somewhere out of the way, but she still looks around a little nervously. Kids playing in the street. Now that it’s not spontaneous, she’s overthinking it. “Look, it doesn’t seem like moaning counts as sighing, but…”

Yuri pauses in the street, catching her hand. “Does it still work if something changes the sound? Like a hand over your mouth?”

She thinks of the muzzle and shakes her head. “That should stop it. I…think. I’ll try not to, of course, and it didn’t happen last time, but…”

“I’ll be right there. And you know how fast I am. I won’t let you.” He’s gone dead serious, eyes bright. “You know I’ll protect Abyss.”

She takes a deep, steadying breath, and lets it out with care. Bows her head a little. Trusting people is some bullshit, but she can trust his protect-Abyss-with-all-he’s-got feelings, at least? “‘Kay.”

He kisses her forehead, squeezes her hand, and pulls her inside.

* * *

It’s a very pleasant little sketchy murder apartment. Same yellow lamplight as the rest of Abyss, but Yuri turns the flames up to bring some cheer in. It’s actually got two rooms, which is pretty luxurious: in the first, there are a few almost nice-looking couches, and books and knives on the walls, and a long stretch of counter that serves as a small but meticulously organized kitchen. Yuri has a few potatoes and tomatoes on the chopping board almost immediately—just as Hapi’s stomach growls.

“I’m just going to make something quick and simple,” he calls over his shoulder, flicking his honing steel over a knife.

“Yeah, don’t fuss. Food’s food.” She finds herself wandering a little, exploring the small space—a lot more lived-in than the old wolf dorms. “Do you have actual crime meetings in here?”

He laughs. “Sometimes. With the inner circle. It’s an excuse to have good couches. I don’t do anything that might escalate here, of course. Cleaning blood out of the carpet would be a pain, and it’s a nice neighborhood.”

There is, in fact, a carpet: clearly not new, but fuzzy-looking. And, she notices, a pillow, the really thick kind made especially for floor-kneeling. A few, in fact. Guest seating, she supposes, for…crime submissives? She really does not know much about that side of Yuri-bird’s life.

“You can take off your boots and socks if you like,” Yuri says, and it’s light and warm and has none of that aura of command trickling through it, but something about it still makes her perk up. “And find your favorite spot on the couch. Just relax. Dinner won’t be long.”

Kneeling later, she guesses. And taking other things off, if they even get there. She’s still not sure how far this will go, but—well, it’s Yuri. There’s always going to be some part of her wondering when somebody’s going to turn on her, but it’s…unlikely, at least, with him. He’d had his chances.

She takes off her boots and stuffs her socks into them. Wiggles her toes in the fuzzy carpet. Tests every spot on the couches until she finds a nice and squishy corner with pillows, and curls in it with her legs tucked up. This place does feel cozy, she thinks. Almost safe. Better be extra sure not to sigh.

A steaming bowl of potato-and-tomato-and-egg mess appears in front of her, and she blinks up at Yuri. “Man, that _was_ fast.”

“Eggs,” he shrugs. “And I always keep some cooked potatoes around for times like this.” He drops onto the other side of the couch—still in full uniform, boots and cape and all—and tucks into his own bowl.

“Mmm.” It’s rich and solid and pretty nice. Maybe a little bland. “You got hot sauce?”

“Heathens,” Yuri sighs. “Yes, Balthus keeps a bottle here. It’s on the counter. You eat a spoonful of yoghurt before I kiss you, that’s the rule.”

“Oh no, more food.” Hapi smiles, oddly endeared, and unfolds herself to find the hot sauce. That picks things up nicely, and she plops back down to inhale dinner. “Right. Uh. Are there other rules? I did not realize just how many weird manners there are until Coco went on about it.”

“Of course—Adrestian nobility.” Yuri sighs dramatically, and Hapi really cannot begrudge him that. “I know all the protocol, but I don’t stand on it. Not unless it’s important to my partner. Which I’m guessing it’s not.”

“Super not.”

“So. No protocol unless something arises naturally between us. Just house rules. Don’t kiss me with hot sauce mouth, don’t touch my cooking knives or the drawers in that cabinet.” That’s a wave to one corner of the living room. “No shoes on the furniture, don’t grab my hair or neck, and surprise me at your own risk. And I don’t mean that I’ll punish you in a fun way, I mean that I might stab you on reflex.”

“Mn.” Hapi wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, not my kink.”

“From what you said last time, I’m guessing I should stay away from your throat?”

She nods slowly, and takes a big mouthful of egg mess to give herself time to think. It feels like there’s something small and warm inside her, to hear him just _remember_ that and bring it up right alongside his rules. “I didn’t want to take off my jacket. With Coco. I just…not that I’m scared of being nakey in general—”

“Nakey,” Yuri echoes faintly, with a look of utter, muted delight.

“What. It’s a word.” Another bite of egg mess. “Cornelia…fucked me up. I’m not even sure that I mind you seeing it, it’s just. Not pretty.”

“I probably have a scarf or two lying around,” Yuri says, like it’s the simplest thing ever, and Hapi’s eyes widen. “If that’s enough coverage.”

“If I tie it like Coco’s…yeah, that’s. A really good idea.”

“I’ll find you one if we go there, then,” Yuri says comfortably, and also shovels eggs. “Is there anything else like that, at least that you know of?”

“I…dunno? It’s not like I’ve done much of anything, you know.”

“It’s okay. If we need to stop, we stop.” His voice goes firm. “Here’s another rule. You’re my friend, and I will _not_ harm you. I refuse to. I like a good tease or a good scare, don’t get me wrong, but I want being under my power to be a place of safety.”

Something in Hapi’s chest aches, and she gulp-swallows enough to mumble, “Shit, Yuri-bird.”

“So if I do something you don’t like, tell me. If you’re not sure whether you like it, tell me. Even if we decide to do it anyway, I want to know where you are.”

“Okay.” The small warm thing is growing, and it feels strange and sore and not at all bad. “I just kind of figured you’d do what you want.”

“Don’t assume I’m not,” Yuri says, and his voice is light again. “Everything I do and don’t do tonight will be at my will, for my own satisfaction as much as yours.” His mouth quirks in a smile. “Trust me in that, at least. I’m a selfish man and I do what I want.”

“So selfish,” Hapi says with a smile, and inhales more home-cooked eggs. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that the scary crime boss is nice.”

“You’d better not,” Yuri huffs, and reaches out to tug on a lock of her hair, just enough to sting. She flashes a little smile that feels frighteningly bright and bites his knuckle lightly as he lets go. “Finish your dinner and eat your yoghurt,” he says, sounding annoyed.

“Yeah, yeah.” She keeps smiling because, hey, that means he’s putting kissing on the menu.

“Do you want to put any limits on how far things go tonight? I know that’s a pretty open-ended question, but if you lay something down now, it’ll help me too.”

She chews at length. It’s not like she hasn’t thought about it—it’s all a blur, and things like finding out what dick tastes like seem pretty far off, or letting him touch her like that, or…what counts, even? “Not…past second base? If that’s the right one?”

“Hands up shirt? Or shirt off?”

“With the scarf…yeah, shirt off is okay. And other stuff there. Don’t take my bottoms off, I guess, or go for my junk.”

He studies her for a moment, and it seems oddly fond. “No junk involved in general?”

“Yeah. Let’s…one thing at a time.” She thinks, wrinkles her nose. “Maybe don’t tie me up either, if that’s even a thing you do. I dunno if I’ll freak out.”

“It can be,” he says, remarkably comfortable. “And it _is_ okay if you freak out, it won’t ruin things. For the record. I won’t tonight, of course.”

“Why you gotta be so reassuring, Yuri-bird.”

“Because you deserve it.”

Hapi feels her face heat, makes some vague disgruntled noise, and blows him a raspberry because it’s the only way she could _possibly_ express herself right now.

“What, too much?” His voice is light again, with that wicked teasing edge he usually reserves for adorable bandits who can’t hit him.

“ _Mneh_ ,” she says, decisively.

“Well, deal with it,” he says, smug, and pats her bare calf.

* * *

They wipe out their dishes and the skillet. Yuri insists on sticking the spoonful of yoghurt in Hapi’s mouth himself, even as she fusses and feels herself blush. Then, when she’s swallowed, he takes her by the chin and kisses her, just as probing and meticulous as the night before, but taking his sweet time. He doesn’t wave off her hands this time; she settles them around his waist, then finds herself clutching handfuls of his uniform as he worries at her bottom lip so perfectly that she sways in his arms.

“Back to the couch,” he whispers against her lips, and she just nods, already a little giddy from the kiss, and lets him lead her. He kicks a pillow closer. But to her mild surprise, he just plops down on the couch and pulls her along to lie with him, head on his knee.

“Up here?” she mumbles into the dark fabric of his thigh.

“For now. I’ll have you kneeling in due time. Trust me.” The edge in his voice sends that hot-syrup feeling trickling down her spine again, and she shivers, feels her lips part with a little whine in spite of herself. “I’m looking forward to it. But I want you relaxed.”

“You are such a weird tease sometimes.” She hears her own voice soften a little, turning muzzy as he pets her hair, playing with the strands that stick out. “Man, your hands are soft.”

“Lotion.” There’s a bit of a pause, like he does sometimes before he lets himself get a little nakey. “I like taking care of myself when I can afford things like that. It’s an indulgence.”

“I can get behind indulgences,” she mumbles, blissing out a little as he runs fingertips around the edge of her ear, down to trace the base of her skull above the high neck of her uniform collar.

“Good.” His voice drops, laden with that innuendo-purr he uses to make just about anything sound dirty somehow. “Because this, right here, definitely counts.” His hand slides, down over her shoulder, a quick bare stretch of her side, the curve of her hip.

“Aww.” His hand on her bare leg is skin-warm, electric. “That…yeah, that feels real nice.”

He pets her hair-to-knee, long slow strokes that are making her brain hazy, and she’s not even sure whether it’s subby feelings or simple _touch_. “You’ve been starving for this, haven’t you?” Yuri murmurs, and some part of her wants to grumble, but he says it so gently and he’s not wrong. The landscape beneath her cheek shifts a little, with a rustle of his uniform, and she realizes he’s reaching out a foot to nudge a pillow closer. “When you want to, when you feel really comfortable with the idea, kneel for me.”

Heat drips through her. She bites her lip against a sigh, wiggles a little under his hand—still petting her. “I’m also really comfy up here. You’re kind of distracting me.”

“Mm. But there’s something you need down there. Something you’ve asked me for and I’m _very_ happy to give you. When you’re ready. Meanwhile, I like touching you.” Hair to knee. She feels like there’s something melting inside her with every pass.

“Is that like…a dom thing or just a touch is nice thing?” Hapi mumbles into his knee, curious. “For you, I mean.”

“Mostly a touch is nice thing. Your skin is—mmm.” He pauses on the bare slice of her side, gives a demonstrative squeeze. “So smooth and lush, and I bet you don’t even do anything to it.”

“I mean, I wash it. With normal stuff.”

“Ugh, of course you do.”

“You still gonna pet me if I kneel?”

“How could I not when you feel this nice?” A tousle of hair at the top of the next stroke, and she makes some soft hum of contentment—

His hand is over her mouth faster than she can blink.

She folds her palm over his knuckles, soothing, and he relaxes a little, and she kisses the base of his thumb as he lets her go.

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

“Nah, ’s okay. I asked.” Another kiss, because it’s right there, and he lightens his touch, traces fingertips over her lips and cheek. “It doesn’t seem to count if it’s like…voiced, even a little? Hums and moans and stuff like that.”

“Got it.”

She squeezes his hand a little, and something strange and watery runs through her. Relief? He’d really meant it when he’d said he’d keep an eye on that, hadn’t he? His hand settles back in her hair, strokes over the nape of her neck, and she shudders, boneless, on the edge of—of what, trusting him?

Shit.

There’s really only one thing she can do, and she trembles just a little as his hand slides down her thigh, and then rolls off the couch. Maybe some fancy noble sub would’ve had, like, dignity or something—she has to find the pillow, and she’s fumbling for a moment, and Yuri-bird says “oh,” very quietly, like he didn’t quite expect her to go down right then—

She settles, bare legs folded under her, hands tangled in her lap, and the pillow really is very squishy and comfy and she’s not even going to have crud in her kneecaps.

The sheer relief knocks the breath out of her, and she lets it out slow, silent through parted lips, an exhale that feels like it goes on forever and unhitches something right down in the root of her soul.

“There you go,” Yuri murmurs. “Let your hands fall to your sides. Relax.”

Her hands fall aside almost before she realizes it, and that’s another unhitch, another long slow exhale, like she’s sinking down and down and down into the best featherbed in the world.

Something warm and soft touches her cheek, and she blinks her eyes open. Yuri-bird’s canted forward like she’s a magnet, one heel slid out to frame her, light sparking in his eyes. His palm cups her face, guiding it up a little to catch her gaze, and the world seems very bright, and the color on his eyelids is glittering. “My lovely,” he breathes, more to himself than her, and she feels warmth pool in her belly.

“Yeah,” she says, and turns her face into his hand, sheer instinct, to kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I'm using [twitter](https://twitter.com/letterblade) now


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [mllelaurel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mllelaurel) for beta!

Yuri-bird leans forward, elbows on his knees, and slides his fingers deep into the thick mess of Hapi’s hair. His other hand runs over her face, and she blisses out for a hot second, eyes hazing closed. Maybe more than a hot second, she isn’t sure. It’s a lot like the thing with Coco last week, but she’s also not utterly confused and craving licorice, so she can really _feel_ it, just for its own sake. Sheer relief, sheer comfort, swell under her ribs. Warmth trickles down through her belly, pools. She shivers a little as something runs through her, then stills, peaceful.

Fuck, it really is nice.

“Look at me a moment?” Yuri says, very softly, and she does, blinking up all dreamy. His hand smoothes over her forehead, brushes her bangs out of the way. “There you are.”

She keeps blinking. He’s slid forward even more, perched on the edge of the sofa with his boots framing her, leaning over. He’s gloriously intent, smile a touch sharp, looking at her like he’s seeing reams of glittering secrets in her skin. “Do you.” She has to swallow, lick her lips. “Wan’ me t’keep…looking at you or something?”

He shakes his head a little. “No. You don’t have to.” He pulls fingers through her hair, and she rubs her face against his hand like a cat, not particularly thinking about it. “Goddess, you’re just falling right under. Poor girl, you’ve been so hard up.”

She blows a very half-hearted raspberry, more like a _fffft_ with her tongue against his knuckle. “Life sucks, breaking news.”

“Sure does.” Yuri buries his hand in her hair again, and this time just sort of pulls, gently, and she feels an oddly pleasant prickle along her scalp as he tilts her head back, inexorable. “It can get better.”

“Nn,” she says, because she can’t nod. “I guess.” She shivers in his grip, pretty surprised by how good this feels. “Hard to believe that sometimes.”

“I know,” he says softly, and eases up just a little. “You sound a little slurry. If you start really losing words, find my hand or whatever else you can reach and squeeze a few times, all right?”

“Okay,” she says, vague—and wow, yeah, she really does sound out of it, doesn’t she? “I got it,” she adds, a little more distinct, in case he’s fussing.

“Good girl,” he purrs.

Something hitches inside her at that, something skin-crawly and hot-cold and almost uncomfortable, and she whines, brow furrowing.

“Too much?”

“Dunno,” she manages, fidgeting with her skirt. “Feels…I’m not that.”

“You are to me,” Yuri says, and the something inside her does a double flip and she feels her face heat. “But I’ll play nice. For now.” He drags his thumb across her lip, and she mouths at it with a hum of contentment. Yuri-bird’s fond little smile turns sharp, and his knee nudges Hapi’s shoulder as he mantles around her, and he presses his thumb into her mouth.

Hapi leans into it and sucks, and heat drips through her.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Yuri murmurs, and he takes a handful of hair again, just as gently. She _could_ squiggle out, she’s pretty sure, but the little tingle of being held is surprisingly nice, and so is sucking on something. She feels her mouth fall open, and he switches to his fingers, two, sliding over her tongue.

“Fucqkh,” she mumbles around them, when she realizes she’s holding her hands behind her back. It arches her shoulders, and her head falls back, and she shuffles her knees a little wider for balance, and yeah, she figures this looks kind of—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Yuri breathes in reply, fervent. “Yes. You’re glorious.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing nice,” she tries to say, except his fingers are still pressed on her tongue, so it comes out pretty garbled. He gets it, she supposes, because he laughs a little.

“I am. You saying you want more? Want to hear every dirty thought that’s running through my head when I see you opening up like this?”

She makes a thoroughly disgruntled noise, flushed, and swallows his fingers a little deeper. Three now, exploring her mouth thoroughly, with the heel of his hand holding her jaw. She runs her tongue along his calluses and lines up her entire self in her head and asks it, pretty firmly, _what the fuck_ , because this still feels good. How many times had Cornelia pried her mouth open to check the back of her throat, never mind stuck something down there, and _this_ feels good? Just because it’s Yuri and she’s in the happy space?

Yuri lets go of her hair and cradles her head in his free hand.

“What’s going on in there?” he asks softly, tapping her temple, and pulling his fingers out just enough to let her talk. She blinks—how long had she had her eyes closed?

“Mmuh,” she says, and licks one fingertip. “Just. Aw, hell. It’s probably easier to show you, but it’s a buzzkill.”

“If you need to, you can.”

She feels her nose wrinkle. “Nah. I’m just a little weirded out that I’m enjoying this.”

“This in particular?” He runs a finger over her tongue and she nods. “But you _are_ enjoying it?”

“Ya-huh.”

“Then let’s keep the buzz,” he purrs. “Get up here.” He tugs gently on her hair. She sways, tries to fumble a foot under her. “No, you can stay on your knees, just—” He guides her with a knee, his hand under her chin, until her butt’s off her knees and he can reach her for a kiss, devouring. She catches at one leg to steady herself, and he breaks the kiss just long enough to murmur, hot against her lips, “whatever you want, I haven’t told you not to touch me.”

She wants—she wants to run her hands all over his wiry legs and also keep them behind her back and also just kiss him forever because it’s dizzyingly sweet. Well, the last is just happening. He’s got her by the hair, his other hand holding her chin or skimming around her throat to catch the back of her neck, which makes her go limp like a scruffed kitten. His fingers are wet— _her_ , that’s her. She winds up with one arm tucked in the bare small of her back and one arm clutching his thigh. Slim steely muscle under the slick slide of his uniform, flexing as he wraps his legs around her.

Heat fizzes and sparks, hazing her back out.

He pulls back, just enough to finger her mouth again, and she opens for it heedless. Then more kissing. Then his fingers. His palm smoothing over her cheek. His lips on her forehead. It’s enough of a pause that she opens her eyes, and Yuri-bird’s all lit up again, lipstick a mess, with a smile so fond that it makes her quaver.

“Yeah,” she says vaguely. “There’s th’buzz.”

“Good.” He kisses the tip of her nose, and she squeaks. “I want to get a few things from the other room. Including a nice scarf for you.” A hand over the back of her neck, and she hums and nods. “Do you want to come with me, or can you stay here for a bit?”

She considers that. “Don’ wanna get up.”

“Oh, I’d have you crawl,” he says sweetly, and strokes her hair, and the thought of _that_ churns in her belly, a little too big to tackle right now. “But you can stay if you don’t want to move.” She nods, then kisses the heel of his hand impulsively, and he smiles bright and fond. “Be right back, then,” he says, and unwraps his legs, and she settles back on her heels, floaty as heck.

His boots click once he’s off the carpet. She likes it, she thinks. She always knows where he is. Like a belled cat, except with that pretty Yuri-bird edge of danger. Which is—huh, yeah, that is definitely a thing. A hot thing. She lets her eyes drift half-shut. Drawers opening and closing. One soft murmur to himself that she can’t quite make out, then another. She has enough damn danger in her life, but it’s Yuri-bird, he’s—

Safe.

_Well, fuck me_ , she thinks, and feels her hands tangle in her lap, and breathes in, and lets them fall to her sides as she relaxes, and breathes out, slow and careful.

The click-click of his heels comes back around and gets lost in the carpet.

She looks up and he’s standing over her, and from down here he’s very tall, one hand dropped to ruffle through her hair in greeting.

She leans against his leg like she’s been hungry for him, which is a little weird, because it’s been, what, barely enough time to roast a cricket?

“Here you go.” He hands her a scarf, purplish-red and glittering.

“Fancy,” she says, impressed, turning it over in her hands, because—well, it _is_ , it might be the prettiest bit of clothing she’s seen since the royal palace.

“It’s a little gauzy, but a few layers of it blocks all the light. Think it’ll work?”

She twists it up and watches it go dark, and also watches it sparkle. “Mm-hm.”

“I’m going to start something in the kitchen for later, so I’ll have my back to you for a bit.” He drops something else he’s holding on the couch—a dark little bundle she can’t quite make out—and nudges her head up with his chin to look intently down at her. “While I’m there, strip to the waist.” There’s an edge of command to it, and she shivers a little, kind of deliciously, and nods. “You can leave your bracelets if you like, but take off the rest and get your scarf settled.”

She nods again, and drapes the scarf across her knees. He stoops to kiss the top of her head and turns off again. Click-click along his kitchenette.

Hapi undoes her jacket, a little slowly, and then stops. “Uh. Where should I put my shit?”

“Wherever you like,” he calls, not turning around. “Well, not in my seat.”

“‘Kay,” she says, and there’s another sort of pause as her jacket falls open. He’s still not looking. Filling a big basin of water at the pump, and she has no idea what that could be for, which makes her wonder. But she thinks she kind of likes that. Good surprises—supposed to be, right? She feels a little tingly at the thought.

She tosses her jacket at one of the other couches, and it lands half-on and slides off, which, whatever. Cropped undershirt, tit-sling, shucked faster and tossed after it. Pleasantly cool still air of Abyss on her bare skin. She hesitates at her bracelets, and then blinks and hurries to get the scarf on instead. That takes fidgeting, as Yuri does his thing at the stove, and a lot of wrapping and pulling her hair out of the way, and getting it tied and all, and she hopes the tails are jaunty like Coco’s and not silly-looking, but…well, at least it’s doing what it needs to do, she thinks. She fusses over the layers, checking they’re all spread over the scars hiding beneath.

“You all set?” Yuri-bird calls, still not turning around.

“I…” She hesitates another moment, and then pulls off her bracelets. Why not? He’s seen that before, and it’s not freak-out bad like her throat. They thunk in the carpet in the vague direction of her clothes. “Yeah. ‘M all set.”

He turns, and she hears him catch his breath.

He paces back to her, and for a moment he’s just standing there, drinking her in, and it’s kind of sinking in that she’s just wearing her short little skirt and that scarf, and that this is the first time she’s been this naked around someone like _this_ , not just changing or in the lab or whatever, and something inside her squirms. In a good way, she’s pretty sure.

“My life,” Yuri-bird says, with one of those dangerous little smiles, “does not suck.”

Hapi laughs softly. “Yeah, you just got people kneeling on your floor, day in, day out.”

“And not just any people. The best people.” He strolls closer, and she feels small down there, small and half-naked and shivering, except in an excited sort of way. He _circles_ her, and the shivering grows. “You really are gorgeous,” he murmurs, and she makes some faint noise of bewilderment, because that’s—well, it’s not like him calling her _good_ , it doesn’t feel _wrong_ , it’s just. Not a thing she’d thought would be relevant, one way or another.

She’s breathing a little fast. Her hands creep behind her; her chin comes up, like she can reach him just from that.

He crouches in front of her and catches her for a kiss, more demanding than before, and when his hand slides over her bare shoulder, it feels like a bone-deep sigh of relief. She might have made one into his mouth, unwittingly, and he catches her by the hair to hold her in the kiss and swallow it all, because he’s a clever boy, and then strokes her arm to sooth her, which is good, because it’s been a while since she let one go like that.

“Goddess,” he says, very softly, like he’s realized something, and then he rocks back and settles on his knees, just on the carpet. One of her hands follows him, and he catches it and kisses her knuckle. Then the scar on her wrist.

“Shit,” she breathes at that, more than a little shaky. “Yuri-bird…you, that’s not…” Damn it, _she_ doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say.

“Not again,” he murmurs. “Not while you’re under my protection.”

She vaguely considers pointing out that she _had_ gotten kidnapped again, but—well, that had been _by_ him in the end, more or less, and also no manacles. Definitely an improvement. It’s vague, though, because something’s dragging hard at her heart and also she’s dizzy with hormones, and she gives in and tugs so she can kiss his hand in return.

“Let me, ah.” He squeezes her hand, lets go. “There’s something I need to…”

His hands go to the clasp of his own jacket.

She blinks as he strips, quick and efficient. He hasn’t even bothered to take his little fancy leader-man cape off, just leaving it clipped on as he shucks the jacket with a clink of insignia. He looks smaller out of it, narrow-shouldered, arms unimpressive but no doubt just as whipsteel as his thighs. Then he pulls off his undershirt. He’s deathly pale, just the faintest dusting of hair so lavender-white that it fades into him, little pink nipples that are stupid cute. More than a few battle scars on him, well-healed old gouges that look like they were alarming once.

“Your nipples are stupid cute,” she says, because that’s about all she can be counted on to say right now.

Yuri-bird blinks, and for a moment all the domly-dom in him scatters _entirely_ aside and his cheeks flush under his powder.

“What,” she says. “They’re pink.”

“I—thanks?” he blurts, and then hugs her like it’s the most important thing in the world.

She makes a surprised little noise of her own, and then that turns into a gasp, and then she melts against him. Slides her arms up to hug him back, fumbling. “This—this is—oh. Wow. Your _skin._ ”

“Yeah.” He tightens around her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she says, almost pleading, because it feels just as good as dropping at Coco’s feet. Another vise around her ribs letting go. Warmth rising between them, like the sun itself is spreading through her skin.

Yuri puts his face in her shoulder, and it’s soft against her, and she jams her chin into him like a cat and shakes a little, like she’ll die if she doesn’t get as much of him against her as she can.

“Take as long as you need,” he says.

* * *

Hapi takes—a while. Just like that. Just holding each other, skin on skin. She isn’t quite sure whether she’s still under like before or whatever else. Mostly she’s just high on all of it, and there’s a whole lot of lazy kissing, and some rearranging to get comfy, and if her eyes get muddly, he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t comment. They wind up sort of half-on half-off the pillow, leaning tangled against the couch, by the time she finally feels like she can let go without tearing off some part of her ribcage. Which, admittedly, she only manages to express at first with some vague wiggling.

“Do you want to keep playing around?” Yuri asks, and his voice is low and shiver-inducing this close to her ear, and she’s not even sure he’s doing it on purpose, the asshole. “Or is staying like this good for the night?”

“Let’s…I mean, if you want to. Yes. Do the thing.” Hapi puffs stray hair out of her face. “You put mystery stuff on the couch, I’m curious. And the stove.” She cracks a smile, bright and far easier than usual, as he kisses her cheek.

“Mystery on the stove is for me,” he says, which does not clear things up at all. “And it’s probably more than warm enough now.” He strokes her back, nape to waistband, and it almost _prickles_ , sensations chasing each other down her spine.

“Damn, Yuri-bird, how does just touching feel that good?”

“I—don’t know,” he says, slightly annoyed, because he’s Yuri and he likes knowing things. “I think it just does. When you want it.” He kisses her shoulder, just past the edge of her scarf. “I’m going to go get the basin. It’s so you can do something nice for me. Once you’re done with that, I’m going to touch you a whole lot more, don’t worry. Won’t leave you hanging.”

“Mm.” _Still_ does not clear up what the basin is for, but whatever, it’ll be nice to make him happy.

“Get comfy on your pillow again,” he says, and they very slowly untangle themselves, and she aches a little to peel their skin apart, but only a little. She scoots back to the pillow—her pillow, now, apparently? She looks at the patterns the lamps cast on the walls and ceiling, pleasantly floaty.

Yuri’s boots come back into view, and he leans down to leave the basin on the floor. It smells faintly lemony. He takes his seat again, dips his fingertips in, and frowns. “Come up and kiss me while that cools. Scalding my toes off is not a good scene.”

“It’s for feets?” Hapi asks, kneeling up between his legs again, and he smiles as he catches her by the back of the neck.

“It’s for feets,” he says, and kisses her. This time, topless, buzzing, both their hands wander. His skin is silky-soft, warmer than she’d expect, and he’s quiet but leans into her touch, and he reaches down to find her boobs, cupping one for an appreciative squeeze. She makes a shaky little noise into his mouth as his thumb slides over one nipple, then moans outright as he pinches it, sending hot little sparks right down south.

“Well, fuck,” she says, swaying a little on her knees, as he breaks the kiss to _watch_ her. He’s got both her nipples now, fiddling with them, and she whines and catches one ankle to hold on and feels her mouth fall open. It _almost_ hurts, but shit, it’s good—she can’t stop squirming, she can’t stop moaning, and he looks for all the world like a kid with the most exciting new toy, except there’s heat and danger in his smile as he finds exactly how little he can twist to make her whine, almost jittering out of her skin, ratcheting up the burny pleasure-pain until she digs fingers into his leg and almost tells him to stop—

He lets go, and she gasps in relief, and his lips are parted, pleasure hazing his eyes almost like _he’d_ been the one just moaning.

Playing around, he’d said. The first time she’d done this, she’d eaten a whole pile of licorice. Now there’s something like happiness buzzing between them. She almost forgets what she’d be afraid of.

“You going to let me mark you up?” he asks, and there’s this _urgency_ in his voice which makes her a little giddy. She blinks at the question, frowns down at her chest.

“Don’t take my nipples off, Yuri-bird, I think I need those.”

“Oh,” he says, and tweaks one just to make her moan, “you definitely need those.” He pulls her a little closer—by the nipple, and dizzy heat slams through her as he moves his other hand up to grab her hair, and then his mouth is on her, where shoulder meets neck just below the scarf, and he’s sucking, _hard_.

“Yeah,” she says, more or less getting it as his teeth worry at her and this lazy delicious ache seeps through. He pulls back when he’s satisfied, rubbing his thumb over the spot with this wild light in his eyes. “D’s it show?” she asks, sounding pretty much drunk.

He ruffles her hair. “So sweet. Yes. All purply.”

“Is that like…a dom thing?”

“Wanting to see my mark on you?” He takes her chin, shoves his thumb deep in her mouth for a moment. “Oh, yes. Very much. Other side.”

She lets her head loll to the other side, and moans outright this time, especially because he’s pretty much holding her mouth open.

“There we go,” he says, pulling her head back to look at him straight on, satisfied as a cat with a twitching mouse. “Saints,” he murmurs, stroking her temple. “You look so lit up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy.”

“Probably not,” she says, without thinking about it much, and then blinks. “Yeah. That’s…a thing.”

He moves to rub his thumb over the other spot. “Here’s to many more days of being this happy.”

She feels her brow furrow, a thread of uncertainty clawing in her belly. “Can’t count on it.”

His brow knots in turn, and he takes her chin firmly. “You will have them. One way or another.” He pulls her up into a kiss, holding her close, sheer affection, and the heat of it slowly chases away that little chill, and she can still feel the marks he’d sucked into her aching a bit. Which is weirdly comforting.

He sits back and looks deep into her eyes for a moment, smoothing back her hair, then says, “Take off my boots.”

Hapi blinks in her warm haze. Something in his voice feels like he’s caught her by the very root of the spine, and she holds still for a moment just to see if she can. Which—she can. But it pulls at her, his _voice_ pulls at her, all the way down between her legs, and it’s not like she doesn’t want to. She goes to run her hands over butter-smooth leather, then tugs, then frowns.

“There are buttons up the back,” Yuri says, like neither her hesitation nor her fumbling surprised him, and she sticks out her tongue.

“Fancy, Yuri-bird.”

“I need the ankle support.” He reaches down to tap her lips. “Also don’t put that out if you’re not going to use it.”

“What, sticking my tongue out at you doesn’t count as using it?” Hapi says, but feels herself flush a little regardless. And, yeah, why not? She leans in to lick along the top of Yuri’s boot, just under the trim—

She’s recoiled, frozen in place, one hand still on the buttons up the back of that boot, and her heart’s beating way too fast. The smell of leather filling her nose, the dull dirty taste against her tongue—

“Hapi,” Yuri’s saying quietly. “Look at me, Hapi. You’re in my apartment in Abyss. You’re safe.”

“Fuck,” she says, very small.

He’s pulling her up, away from his boots, and hands on her bare skin shock her, jolt her sideways—

Yuri’s face fills her vision. “Hapi?”

“Yeah,” she croaks. “’S my name. Oh, jeez.”

“It’s okay.” He’s moving her, not really taking her weight but guiding her, and they’re side by side on the couch now, turned to face each other. He rests his forehead against hers, and she can smell the lavender soap he uses still clinging to him. “This stuff happens.”

“Haah,” she says, deliberate, in place of a huff. Tries to breathe back in and gets about halfway. Feels like a newborn fawn scrambling to get its legs under itself. “Give…can you give me your…” She paws at his wrist.

He puts his hand over her mouth, eyes flicking back and forth as he searches her face, and she makes some wretched croaking noise, shakes violently, and manages to pull his hand sideways and get her lips around his fingers. He cottons on then, at least, and slides three in, not too deep, but more than enough to fuck up any noises she might make.

She hyperventilates in peace for a bit, and he holds her close and hums, something soft and vaguely familiar. Then she starts figuring out how to breathe again. It’s—easier like this. She’d bite her own wrist, usually, stuff it up in there, and it’s weird that she hadn’t done that. It’s weird. As much of a breath as she can manage. Let it out without worrying, trusting his fingers to mangle whatever came close to a sigh. Again. Again.

He’s looking her right in the eye, when she finally gets her eyes open, and that’s—that’s good. The next deep breath is easier. She’s relaxing, starting to slide back into that comfortable haze. She pulls off his fingers after a few more breaths. “Okay,” she says, taking a deep breath, letting it out safely, then another. “That happened.”

“Real boots not as fun?” he asks, and smooths his palm over her cheek.

“Eegh.” She scrunches her face up. “Yeah. The…leather, I think. The smell.”

He lets out a shaky little breath of his own. “Smells can get bad.” He leans closer, letting her bury her noise in his hair. “Huff me whenever you need to.”

“Mm. Smells like Yuri-bird.” She wiggles a little, trying to shake off the chill. “Sorry, I. Derailed stuff.”

“Hey. It’s part of the plan, right? Figure out what freaks you out so you know what to avoid. And now you know.”

“That’s…yeah, I guess it was.” She nods, kisses his head where she’s huffing. “That was a little worse than last time, I think.”

“You seemed like you were going somewhere else for a moment.”

She shrugs. “Made me think of something, I guess.”

He strokes her face, soothing. “Do you want to get dressed?”

She blinks and frowns. “I don’t wanna have to stop for this.” She kisses his thumb because it’s right there with how he’s cradling her face. “I really don’t wanna have to stop for this.”

“You can,” Yuri says with care. “If you need to. Sometimes pushing through makes it worse.”

“Yeah, but…I don’t want this to just. Decide everything. And if I stopped now, I’d still feel crummy.” She butts her head against his shoulder. Then more of her. He wraps her up in one of those delicious skin-warm hugs, and that eases the rattling in her chest. “You said you wanted me to do something with your feet, yeah?”

He nods. “If doing something will help settle you, then yes, let’s do that. You’ll need to be on your knees for it though. I’m a little worried about putting you back under right away.”

“‘M not sure I’m…up? Entirely? I’m a little hazy.”

He pulls back from the hug and studies her, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. Then nods slowly. “I’m going to get my boots off and soak my feet so they aren’t smelly. You stay up here with me for now.” He kisses her forehead. “Like before. Kneel when you’re ready.”

“Mmkay.” She lets him lean down to unbutton his boots, peel off his socks, and slide the pile aside. He leans back, melting into the back of the couch with a contented hum as he slides his bare feet into the tub of water, and she curls around him and shoves her head into his hand for pets.

“You’re like a cat I’m not allergic to,” he says with a soft laugh.

“Mrrrow.” She feels herself smile and squishes her face against his chest.

“ _Damn_ , you have a good cat impression.” He fluffs her hair, and she makes a soft _rrrrrr_ with her tongue, the closest she can manage to a purr. He gasps in sheer delight. “Maybe I should get you cute little ears and a tail.”

She snorts into his chest. “Is that a thing?” He runs a hand down her back, and she jams herself closer against him. “Yeah, sure, long as it means you pet me.”

“Oh, that’s a given.”

Hapi slides an arm around him and basks in the contact, feeling the chilly jolt of memory grow more and more distant. “So, your feet, what’s that about?”

“I’ve been on them a lot of the day, so I want a foot rub. And I’m curious how inclined to service you are.” He slides a hand deep into her hair, gives just the gentlest tug, like a reminder. “Exploration and all.”

“Ah. Yeah, I dunno. Maybe not very, but.” She shrugs, one-shouldered. “Some people seem to really want to run around doing stuff for everyone, and that’s never been me. Part of why I wasn’t sure if I was a submissive, I guess.”

“Faerghus and the church both particularly value service. It’s not the only way to be a submissive, though it’s pretty common. But even people inclined to it don’t always go around serving people willy-nilly.”

“Always seemed weird to me. And the church kind of takes advantage of it, to be honest.”

“If it’s what people find satisfaction in, I’m not gonna deny them that.”

“Mm, I guess. Should be on their own terms though.”

“Not gonna say you’re wrong.” He tweaks her ear. “Is it angry at the church time even when you’re under?”

She blows him a very lazy raspberry. “It’s always angry at the church time.” And pauses, blinking. Then licks his belly where she’s curled.

Yuri-bird _squawks_. “What— _why_.”

“I used it,” she says brightly.

“ _You_ ,” Yuri groans, long-suffering. “I’m a brat magnet. Everyone I know is a brat.”

Hapi snorts. “Yeah, if being silly counts as brat, I think you’re stuck with that.” She rolls a little, stretches her full length with bare feets hanging over the edge of the couch, and blows out a breath that’s _all_ relaxation. “That rhymed. Also probably everyone in Abyss is a brat. Like, it’s Abyss.”

“Mm, true.” He walks fingertips over her face, and she chases them to lick them like a cat with string. “Bernadetta probably isn’t a brat. Ingrid _definitely_ isn’t.”

“What about, uh…hat chick?”

“L’Arnault, shining star of Enbarr’s opera scene? _Huge_ brat.”

Hapi stretches again, feels warm contentment in her belly, and rolls back off the couch. Yuri keeps a hand on her this time, following her down, and slides a thumb into her mouth once she’s settled on her pillow. Presses the marks on her neck in turn. A reminder, and she basks in it, closer to contentment.

“So uh. What do I do?”

“Should be a towel next to you. Dry them off, then just knead them. The arch, especially, and right in front of my heel. Really feeling it there today.”

Hapi finds the towel and sets to work. His feet are rougher than Coco’s, deep calluses around ball and heel where hers had been uncannily smooth. No prissy noble feet here. Which she can definitely get behind—her own are hard as horn. He exhales softly as she rubs them dry.

“Slide the basin aside, why don’t you?” he says softly, and she does it without hesitation. Sensible, really. Gets it out of the way. It is kind of calming.

Right in front of his heel, okay. She takes one foot, a little cautious, starts feeling her way. The damp papery skin there is taut, and she slides her thumbs over it, digging in a little—

He moans, soft and blissful, and sags into the couch.

Which is something. Yuri’s not nearly as bad about letting himself enjoy things as Coco is, but seeing him really _relax_ —yeah. Definitely something. She could take or leave what she’s doing, really, but the reactions…

“You could go a little harder,” Yuri says gently, and she tightens her hands, testing.

“Like this?”

“Yeah.” His moan is gut-deep now, and he wiggles his toes a little. “Just like that. That’s so good, Hapi.”

She catches her breath, stunned and uncertain, because _that’s_ different somehow. Blinks up at him, and he reaches down to stroke her hair, something soft in his eyes.

“Not too much?” he asks.

“No.” She blinks rapidly. “It’s different. I mean.” Something’s hot and uncertain in her gut. “It’s a lot.”

“Well.” He traces her lips. “I’ll play a _little_ nice then. Something about this has got you.”

“Mm.” She nods vaguely. “Not like I have a burning need to rub your feet specifically, or anything like that, but…seeing you happy. That’s nice. Dunno if it’s a sub thing or a person thing.”

He smiles, undeniably fond, and runs knuckles down her cheek. “Same to you, you know. Kneel up, I want to touch you.”

“ _Prrrrr_.” She arranges herself, figures out how to work Yuri’s foot while he leans down to get his hands on her, and yeah, this is even better. He can’t quite kiss her with his leg in the way, but he can pet her, play with her mouth, even reach down far enough to tweak her nipples. It’s gentle at first, but her skin’s starting to light up again after that gust of ice, and they fall into a nice rhythm. She does something he likes, that makes him groan in relief, and he pulls her nipple in reply, sending that sweet aching sting _all_ the way down.

By the time she’s done with his other foot, she’s deep in that pleasant haze, pliant under his hands, and when he says that she can stop, she just sinks back to sit on her feet. His hand in her hair, and she basks, leans into it with a hum of contentment.

He slides off the couch himself, with the mystery bundle tucked under one elbow, and takes a knee to kiss her. More makeouts, his hands wandering, until she’s moaning soft into his mouth, heat thrumming heady over her skin.

“All right,” he says, reaching up to pull a throw blanket off one couch and tossing it on the floor. “Lie down. On your belly, at least for now. Put your arms somewhere comfortable for you.”

She wiggles until she’s got her boobs comfy, then pillows her head on her folded arms. “This good?”

“Yes.” His voice has been light so far, but that edge trickles back in—his dominance, she’s realizing, except it’s not obnoxious like every other time she’s heard somebody throwing it around. Probably because she likes him. “Keep your arms there for now. Got it?”

“Nn.” She feels her face heat a little. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good,” he says, very softly, almost like it’s more for him than for her, and strokes her hair gently off her temple, and then walks his fingers down her bare back. Now, when she’s keyed up and also maybe tied up in some super nebulous and actually kind of safe way, it feels like lightning. Makes her shiver. “Oh, yes,” he purrs. “This will be fun.”

His nails, light and teasing, send her skin tingling like there’s sparks running under the surface. She can barely even tell _where_ he’s touching her, just that he _is_ , and she squirms, gasping. It’s like two steps sideways from being tickled. “That’s…what the fuck, Yuri-bird.”

He laughs softly. “Yeah, I don’t quite know why it does that. But some people have very…” Five points of fingers, twisting, and she squeaks and wiggles. “Oddly sensitive backs.” The contact disappears for a moment, and she’s still twitching. Anticipation. She doesn’t move her arms, like it doesn’t even occur to her, but she digs her fingers in, holding on.

Something rabbit-soft and warm runs over her temple, and she makes a faint hum and leans into it. And, when she manages to focus—well, yeah, it’s rabbit-soft for a reason. Yuri’s holding a bit of fur. He skims it past her hair and runs it over her tingling, shivering back, and she hears herself make a startled moan she barely recognizes. “Oh. Oh, that’s…”

He strokes her cheek with his other hand, thumb teasing her lips, and it’s nice and also means he’ll keep her from sighing, so she manages a deep breath and lets her eyes drift shut. “Good?” he asks softly.

“Mm-hm,” she says, nodding a little, and then a squeaky noise as his nails come out again. The fur right in their wake. Sensations chase each other through her skin, lightning and deep soft warmth, twice as intense with her eyes closed, and she gasps and makes ragged thoughtless moans. Yuri-bird’s thumb slides between her lips, and she mouths at it, losing herself.

She crackles up like a strung bow under his nails, uncoils under the fur with bone-deep contentment, and rattling between them is crazy intense in itself. He winds her up with nails until her skin is crawling with so much sensation that she can barely breathe. Soothes her down with the fur. Wind up again. Soothe down. The same running down her bare legs, lighting her up head to toe.

He digs his fingers in, pushing past the skittery-shivers of the light touch to straight-up scratching, soft fire, and she wiggles and groans. After that, the fur, and she’s boneless, and then the light teasing of his fingertips feels different now, hot over the scratched-in stripes, almost more manageable. Legs. Back. A little up her arms. Somebody’s making noises she can’t recognize.

Just the fur, long light strokes, and she’s melting into a deep and blissful puddle under it. It slows, so gradually that she can barely tell. She isn’t even sure how long it’s been. She’s—on Yuri-bird’s carpet? The blanket is wooly. Dinner, rubbing his feet, freaking out—everything seems like it was years ago. Her whole life, so far away. The moment stretches; she feels new, vividly alive.

His palm smoothes over her shoulder, warm and firm. He brushes her hair out of her eyes, and she realizes she’s just humming, tuneless, content. “You good in there?” he asks, stroking her temple, and she gives him what feels like a deliriously derpy smile in answer.

Words. Right. Words are a thing. “I think that was like,” she mumbles slowly. “Thirty-seven hundred things’ve never felt before and it was great.”

Yuri laughs, and she can see his smile out of the corner of her eye, and it feels like moonlight inside her skull. “Really. Thirty-seven hundred exactly.” He pats his knee. “You can move now, get up here so I can hold you.”

“Nneehhh,” she says slowly, and figures out that she has arms. “Might be. Thirty-seven hundred and two or something. Issa. Catalogue.” She flops in his direction, and he bundles her up, and she burrows into his chest and makes some hungry sound of raw _need_ that she immediately regrets.

Yuri-bird folds around her like he can block out the world and pecks the top of her head, soft and sweet.

* * *

The evening stretches. They move back up to the couch, eat peach currants smuggled down from the greeenhouse, drink cold tea, talk about nothing. Hapi’s boneless, basking in a deep satisfaction that feels a lot like the thing with Coco last week, but less full of doubt. Neither of them have put any clothes back on, but they’re snuggled up in the blanket.

This is—pretty okay. Hapi can almost _feel_ herself shying away from the thought, and she’s pretty glad Yuri-bird isn’t trying to talk stuff through right away. She’d rather enjoy this, slowly drifting up from the haze, no told-you-so’s.

“It’s probably getting late for you,” Yuri says at some point, still stroking her hair. “I could walk you back to the dorms if you like.”

“Muh,” she says. She _has_ been fucking her sleep schedule this week. “’S okay. I remember the way.” She’d feel dumb, dragging him with her. But it’ll be a cold walk. Which is a silly thought. It’s not even that late, it’s Abyss, it’s always the same temperature anyway, and she’d have to put on clothes.

“Or you could stay. Whatever works for you.”

She squints up at him, mouth twisting, and pokes him in the nose. “Are you fussing?”

“Maybe.” He twirls a lock of her hair around one finger. “I did just put you under, I’m allowed.”

“Them’s the rules, huh? You gonna try to give me a fancy gift next?”

Yuri lets out a breath that’s a tiny hiss of air between his teeth. “Never. My rules for myself, not some Adrestian nonsense.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Constance?”

“Mmrm.” She chews her lip. “I don’t even know why it felt weird. It just…”

“Because you are not a commodity to be bought?” Yuri says, with an edge in his voice like she’s never heard.

Hapi blinks, sits up slowly, and reaches to curl a hand in his hair in return, almost hesitantly.

“Adrestian noble etiquette is…” A delicate pause. “Stressful.” He lets out a breath and leans their foreheads together. “It’s how she was raised, I know.”

“Mm. You’re still fussing.”

“Like you can talk.” He folds one hand over hers, though doesn’t pull her away. “You just…kind of look like you don’t want to leave.”

She frowns. “I could. Like I’m not gonna pitch a fit because I need to go to bed, come on.”

“But do you want to?”

She can’t answer, and curls up a little. There’s something cold creeping through her belly that she really doesn’t want to deal with.

Yuri-bird’s quiet for a bit, then says, careful and distinct, “I’m not going to take this from you. Not if you want it. This doesn’t have to be the last time, and you don’t need to leave right now.”

She frown harder. “But do _you_ want it?”

“I’m selfish, remember?” Yuri says gently.

“You’re full of shit sometimes, Yuri-bird,” she mumbles, not unfond. “You’re like the least selfish person I know.”

He’s startled into silence for a moment, a little wide-eyed. “It’s reciprocal, Hapi,” he says, at last, a little low, like he’s being very serious. “Whatever warm and happy and satisfied you were feeling from all of that? I felt that too. Or something like, at least. Putting you under, seeing you all pliant and glowing under my hands—that settles my needs too.”

Her mouth twists. “You’ve got B.”

“Well. Even if you insist I’m not selfish, I’m still greedy.” His breath catches, and he turns even more serious. “Not that I would presume that I have you. Also you and Balthus are just a _little_ bit different, you know.”

She hesitates a little longer than she might like, something uncertain fluttering in her belly, then finally flops back down on the couch, pulling the blanket up and burrowing in. “Yeah. I’m taller.”

He relaxes a touch, looping an arm around her shoulders and offering his thigh for a pillow. “If you’re up before me, there’s bread and cheese and such in the cabinet above the dish rack. Take whatever you need.”

“Dangerous offer, Yuri-bird,” she mumbles into his leg. “I’ll eat you out of house and home.”

He snorts. “Yeah, yeah. Like you’ve said. I’ve got Balthus.” He reaches for a pillow to tuck behind her head. “Once you feed them, they never go away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I [tweet](https://twitter.com/letterblade)


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